Three Little Words
by Hitana
Summary: Kira reflects upon his latest victim, L, and the time he shared with the young detective. LightxL one-shot.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. Believe me, if I did, I'd be rich, happy, and using my power to take over the world.

**Title: **Three Little Words

**A/N:** My first-ever Death Note fanfic, and second one-shot ever. LightxL shounen-ai near the end, but it starts off sounded pretty bitter. Comments and criticism are more than welcome!

"I am L."

Three words that allowed my dream to become a reality. Three words that I'd never expected to hear. Especially not from… _that_. Those three little words that turned my goals, my dreams, my ambitions, and my mind around completely. Before I wanted only to rid the world of evil, and then announce myself as Kira in order to rule over my utopia. After those three words, my life became about the man who'd spoken them.

L. There was no way he could have been telling the truth. L was supposed to be the world's greatest detective, not some sugar-addicted freak with more weird quirks than the average circus sideshow. I had thought that his death would be necessary before. After all, I couldn't let myself get caught, could I? Especially not by some panda-eyed weirdo. But after meeting him, his death became my top priority, a mission second only to the creation of my perfect world.

Yet he intrigued me nonetheless. He was intelligent; there was no denying it. How else could he have scored the same as me in the entrance exams? He was methodical, plotting out every move as easily as I did. He knew what I would say before I said it, and somehow everything I did lead L to the same conclusion: that I, Yagami Light, was Kira. He had to be the real L. He was too outrageous to be a fake. When I voiced that idea, he seemed amused, or as amused as he ever seemed. And yet he agreed. I was already one of his best suspects, and yet he kept me close to him, testing my reasoning, which was strikingly similar to his own, or so he claimed.

The similarities didn't stop there, either. Nearly all of our theories matched up. Kira was young, probably a student, and someone who hated the thought of losing. He thought he was doing something good for the world. He was a force to be reckoned with, needing nothing more than a name and a face to cause a lethal heart attack. Thus it was best if the team in charge of investigating the killer should use aliases. It was also highly intelligent of L to use several different names, even if they did get a little annoying for those that knew him both inside and outside the investigation room. We both knew there had to be more than one Kira, or at least more than one person with his powers. It was obvious that this second Kira, this imposter, was a fan of the original. That this second Kira had powers greater than the original, only needing a face to kill. How we reached these conclusions were completely different, but the results were the same.

I hated him. He knew far too much for his own good. That he knew all of these things about Kira, or rather, that he had deduced them all without any solid proof, meant that he was a force to be reckoned with. That was why I gave up my dream, putting it on hold indefinitely until I could be cleared of all suspicion.

Those weeks in confinement were terrible. His voice was the only one I ever heard. That annoying, monotonous drawl that made me want to punch something. That unfeeling drone that made me want to cry in frustration. And yet when the speaker clicked off, I found myself wanting to hear it more. I convinced myself that it was because his was the only human contact I could get. It sickened me, but he was the only person I could talk to. I never confided in him, except for the daily proclamations of my innocence. But even if I didn't know I was Kira, he still believed. I had to admit, his persistence was admirable, even if he was persistent about what I perceived at the time to be a lie.

When I was allowed out of that cell for the first time in what seemed like a decade, I knew I had succeeded. He no longer thought I was Kira. Or at least, he was very nearly sure of it. That man wouldn't trust his own mother, if he'd had one. I figured his hair was proof that he didn't even trust his reflection to tell him the truth about how he looked each morning.

What I didn't expect was my next period of confinement. Being chained to him all day, every day, was far more than enough to make me want to confess my guilt and get a couple of poisonous shots in the arm. The issue being that I still thought I was innocent. I had set myself up for months of pure hell. Thankfully he arranged for certain comforts to be taken care of. The chain was long enough that we needn't accompany each other into the bathroom to shower or relieve ourselves. We were allowed to change shirts without the handcuffs on, as long as I was watched constantly, and the rest of the clothing changes took place behind the bathroom door. Two beds were dragged into the same room, close enough that neither of us would be terribly uncomfortable sleeping with our arms stretched out, yet far enough to that we wouldn't feel awkward, like two young teens learning that they're a little old for sleepovers. Yet as I lay awake in my bed, staring into the darkness, I found myself staring more at him than anything else. The odd little enigma, the wonderful detective whose idea of a balanced diet was a plate of cake perched precariously upon his knees.

That was when the thought first hit me that I may be seeing him in a different light. I was still going to kill him, of that I was certain, but I began to second-guess myself. Was it really necessary to eliminate such a strange specimen? Could I use him as I had used Misa, twisting his own devices to serve my ultimate goal?

As everything I'd done came back to me after touching the Death Note again, I can only remember screaming. The rush of memory coming back at me, hitting me like a slap in the face, pulled all the air from my lungs in a single wail of energy. I knew what had to be done again. I knew once again that I was Kira, that L, Ryuzaki, Ryuga, was my enemy. I knew that if I could just learn his name, I'd be safe; I'd get off completely free. After all, the only two people in the world capable of breaking this case open were L and myself, and I sure as hell wasn't planning on it any time soon. Yet there again was a nagging feeling that told me killing L wasn't what I really wanted. I pushed it from my mind. After all, the past few months were a hassle, not a bonding situation. He and I were as we ever were, the hunter and the hunted. I was his prey, and he was mine. He needed proof of my guilt, I needed his name.

Smart as he was, he made one fatal mistake after the discovery of the Note. He actually set me, his key suspect, free. The handcuffs came off and I was given the irresistible chance to continue toward my glory. With Misa as my eyes once again, I was unstoppable. The only roadblock was, once again, L. That aggravating little scab of a person, the man who haunted my dreams every night. To him, I was his friend, someone who, by the rules of the Death Note, couldn't possibly be Kira. If I was, I would be dead. To me, he was a liability. He never left my thoughts. I longed to be near him at all times, hoping against hope that he'd let his real name slip. I half wanted to be chained to him again. For some strange reason, being free seemed too… lonely. And having to deal with Misa on my own was proving too much. I found myself wanting nothing more to hear L's voice interject an odd comment during one of Misa's rants about work. I hoped beyond hope that I could look away from her and see L sitting on the sofa in that strange position that was his alone.

It was only after I'd given the order to Rem to take the life of the detective that I began to think of everything his death would mean for me. My greatest adversary would be six feet under. He'd already told me that he'd like me to take over the investigation, which meant I could steer it any which way I wanted, staying always one step ahead of the new L.

Although, as I thought of my upcoming victory, there was something else I realized. I couldn't help but reflect upon the relationship I'd had with L. In all those months of being near him, I had actually grown to like him. His quirks no longer bothered me. His voice no longer made me want to strangle him. His penetrating gaze seemed to see inside my soul and read my thoughts like a book. Is that how he'd known I was Kira? Is that how he'd known to call me his friend? Did he think that this would somehow save his life in the end?

He was wrong. Once Rem had agreed to kill him, the deal was sealed. The Shinigami would not take back her word. I would be forced to watch the man die, his heart straining to keep pumping blood through his body. And as his heart beat its last, and the breath left his lungs forever, his eyes closing and his pained face relaxing into the calm mask of death, I would laugh. My victory would be ensured, my utopia would become a reality, and I would never have to see those strange features again.

So why did the thought hurt so much?

I saw him standing out in the rain, alone. It was the first time I'd ever seen him look so… vulnerable. He said something, but the sound of the wind and the pattering rain drowned out his words. He was the last person I wanted to see at the time. After all, I didn't want to chance spoiling my moment of glory. I didn't want to start feeling bad for him now that his execution was set. Yet my feet moved on their own until I was standing next to him, the rain pouring down on my head and shoulders as though the sky was already lamenting L before his name was even written in the Death Note.

"The bells are loud today," he said softly, that infuriating monotony returning. He turned his gaze to me again, searching my mind and seeing the order for his death. He knew that this was his last day on earth, his last precious hours of life, and it was all because of his so-called friend.

_Only to those who will hear them no more_, I thought. I heard no such bells, and with that fact I knew that no bells would toll for me for a long time. Today was my victory day, not my execution day. Perhaps there would be bells after all, but they would sing out a coronation hymn, not a dirge as they did now for the young detective, standing out in the rain, his hair lying flat for the first time from the water that trickled down in tiny rivers from his bangs.

We reentered the building together, one of the last things we'd ever do as friends. He found some towels, as I stood alone, dripping wet and miserable. Why did my heart choose this moment, his moment of vulnerability, to have an attack of conscience? He handed me a towel and began to dry himself. His stare pierced me again; only this time there was nothing to read. I had gone numb.

"Are you alright, Raito-kun?"

No answer came to my lips. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, to say that it was all my fault that, come that evening, his eyes would close forever, so as never to read me again.

I allowed his help when he offered to dry me off as well. We made small talk, but the only words I wanted to truly say to him were lost, unable to find their way from my heart, to my mind, to my mouth. Ambition was holding them back. Yet if I didn't say them now, I'd never have the chance. The three words that could change my life forever could not be spoken. Not if I wanted my perfect world. My perfect world of peace and civility. My perfect world that had no use for crazy, quirky detectives snooping around.

But though my ambition withheld my words, it could do nothing for my actions. The numbness in my mind had spread throughout my body. It was only after my hand had reached out on its own accord, touched L's cheek, and slid down his chin, lifting it so his piercing gaze could meet my own, that I could feel a tingle of sensation again. The numbness faded slowly, drifting away from the fingers that could not pull themselves away from his face, crawling up my arm, down my back.

"Raito-kun?" L asked quietly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, barely audible to even myself. As soon as my legs were no longer numb, I stood up, broke the beautiful contact with L's surprised face, and turned away, determined that I would only look into those eyes again as I stood over him, laughing, as he breathed his last breath.

The investigation room was nearly silent as L fell from his chair, clutching his chest. One thought struck the minds of everyone. Kira had finally learned L's name, and now no one was safe. As he lay, writhing, on the floor, I held him in my arms, feigning shock and horror. And as the last bit of life began to wither away from him, his lips moved for the final time.

"Kira," they said silently. "I love you."

There was no need to act anymore. I screamed his name, or rather, his alias, Ryuzaki, as pure shock filled my numb heart. My mind reeled as if I'd just been punched in the frontal lobe by a champion boxer. He had said the words that I'd wanted so badly to express. And as I watched his blank eyes slowly close in an eternal, peaceful slumber, the laughter I'd dreamed of all this time died, replaced by an urge to cry that I barely managed to withhold.

The three words that allowed my dream to become reality. The three words that made me want reality to be a dream.

"I am L."

"I love you."


End file.
